Fallen
by Leap of fate
Summary: Obi-Wan Kenobi says his final farewell to Anakin, and reflects on his mistakes. Oneshot POV fic- Contains spoilers for Episode III, you have been warned.


Fallen

Disclaimer:They don't belong to me, the mighty George Lucas owns all, I just play in his sandbox. But oh what I could do with Obi-Wan and a tub of Karamel Sutra ice cream...

A.N: **EPISODE THREE SPOILERS!** You have been warned. They're not major and they're not anything we haven't seen before but if you want to be unblemished as fresh fallen snow you'll turn back, that's my advice. This fic is first in a series of oneshots I will do based on the content of Revenge of the Sith having been lucky enough to attend the Star Wars Saga Marathon in London on Monday and am consequently suitably inspired/awed/cannot wait 'til the 19th. Look out for others in the '_Broken' _series coming soon! Feedback is loved and adored, constructive criticism only!

Enjoy.

* * *

_"Anakin won't let me down, he never has."_

You might never have failed me Anakin, but I've failed you. Too many times to count.

I taught you, cared for you, protected you, defended you and criticised you. I was your mentor and in many ways your student. You taught me things about myself I never could've known without you. I was your loyalist friend and your biggest betrayer.

I loved you.

But I could not save you.

_"You were a brother to me Anakin, I _loved_ you!"_

_"**I hate you!"**_

I hate myself.

At least Palpatine was honest in his treachery, at least he showed you his true intents. At least he trusted you enough to tell you the harsh truths. We both used you, but it was I who twisted the knife in your back. Used you as bait to catch the Chancellor in his misdeeds, to see how far your loyalties to the Jedi lay. I pushed you away. I didn't argue strongly enough with the Council. I let them manipulate you as much as I let Palpatine manipulate you.

Your body is twisted, broken, mutilated. Your arm, your legs, you are gone. This is not you. Your cry of hatred still rings in my ears, cold as death but not nearly as forgiving. But it is not your cry.

Anakin Skywalker is dead. Anakin Skywalker would never have lifted a finger to harm Padmé Amidala Naberrie, would never have spoken such vile words to me, would never have turned away from the life he had always dreamt of living, would never have betrayed himself and those he loved so completely. Lies killed Anakin Skywalker, both Jedi and Sith. Mine and Palpatine's.

Anakin Skywalker has long since vacated the premises, all that remains is this Sith created nightmare, Darth Vader.

I look at you with detachment in my eyes, but underneath my heart is breaking a thousand different agonising ways.

Burnt, scarred, your shell looks every bit the monster that lurks within, sizzling skin, charred flesh, your excruciating screams and cries pierce me surer than your lightsaber ever could.

You never understand the torment of losing a child until the fear becomes reality, and even then you cannot fully understand the magnitude.

I wish I was dead. Truly. I wish I could give up. I wish with every particle of the Force that it was I lying mangled there instead of you, so that I would not have to feel the crushing gravity of our deeds today, the oppressive, suffocating charade my life is to become, without you, without any of it. If it meant you would be standing here, with the Emperor destroyed, the Galaxy in peace, the Council learnt from its glaring mistakes, I would die a thousand deaths in an instant. But there are no second chances, there is no redemption here, not today.

The man who was Obi-Wan Kenobi died in the same instant that Anakin Skywalker did. I will never live again.

Son I nurtured, brother in arms, truest friend, man I loved. You are destroyed. You came closer to me than any other being, closer even than Master Yoda, closer even than Qui-Gon Jinn. You could tell what I was thinking, compliment me perfectly on the battle-field, we were a team. We were _the_ team.

You were the Chosen One.

How could Master Qui-Gon have got it so spectacularly wrong?

A better question would be- how could _I_ have got it so spectacularly wrong?

The Jedi Council didn't want me to train you, stubborn pride, foolish arrogance, blind loyalty, those are not the reasons to take a Padawan, yet that is why I took you, because Master Qui-Gon asked it of me. And I buried you with the weight of the galaxy, smothered you with the expectations of the Council, when I thought I was helping you grow.

And I fell with you.

If I had to do it all again I wouldn't change a thing. I made excuses for you, tried to ignore the warning signs, and all I did was hasten your downfall, when I thought I was making you stronger, giving you the chance to prove them wrong, prove Qui-Gon right. Become the man I knew you had it in you to be.

Love truly is blind.

I could not save you. And now your mangled body, barely alive, clutches at the smouldering sand, still grasping, still gasping, still trying to kill me.

I can feel your hatred as surely as I can feel the bile rise in my throat. But I show you no signs I experience either. I would never give the shadow of you that remains the satisfaction. You monster, you mockery of the man I loved, the man I would die for in a moment and _blast_ the Jedi Code. I would have sacrificed anyone else, but not Anakin Skywalker, the same as Qui-Gon Jinn would have- _did_- sacrifice for me, though I was too blind to see his love, the same as what you are is now too blinded to see mine.

Sins of the father condemn the son.

_"**I hate you!"**_

I give you one last look. You're horrendous, something from the pits of hell and yet I know, somehow, that you can only get worse. _Emperor_ Palpatine will see to that.

So I turn from you, my fallen angel, the destroyer of hope, where we once believed you to be the harbinger. I turn my back on you and I walk away, the image of your seared and twisted body inexorably etched into my mind, branded onto my eyelids, the face that will haunt me beyond death, for all time. There is hope, but it is not here, and it is not with me. I still love you, as much as I hate what you have become, the memory of your former glory is a scar on my heart.

My greatest triumph, my greatest failure.

My friend.

My brother.

My love.

Goodbye Anakin.


End file.
